


This is the End

by AllegedlyActual



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode s10e06 My Struggle II, F/M, Post-Episode: s10e06 My Struggle II, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6114887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegedlyActual/pseuds/AllegedlyActual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Resolving the cliffhanger ending of the finale, because our agents deserve better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is my headcanon for a season 11. Will have more MSR as it goes along, don't worry.

The white light shone down into Dana Scully’s eyes, painfully bright, yet she couldn’t look away. She stood paralyzed, seeing but unseeing, as images flashed through her mind- the bridge, Duane Barry, an operating room on a train, the flash of radiation treatment.

It’s happening, she thought. It’s happening. Again, a part of her mind whispered. It’s happening again.

She felt a vibration throughout her body, and the white light turned to shimmers.

Agent Miller realized it first. “Go!” He shouted desperately.

She roused slightly. Who was yelling?

Miller grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her roughly. “Scully! Go! Get out of here!”

The vibration increased, now tinged with heat. Scully felt a trickle of sweat between her shoulder blades. Miller was still screaming at her. She shook her head, clearing it.

It’s happening again.

Panic gripped her. She turned toward Mulder, who had stood and was weakly clinging to the car.

“Mulder! Run!” She took Mulder’s arm around her. She ran, half-dragging him behind her. His labored breath roared in her ear. But there was something else roaring.

She looked back to see Miller in the light. He shook his head once, then the explosion came.

The bridge where they had stood flew through the air, dust and smoldering shrapnel. Cars toppled into the river, where flaming debris, bodies, and oil floated on the surface. The water sizzled as the ship’s beam cut into it. Then as soon as it had begun, the beam was gone, and the ship with it.

***

Scully opened her eyes, lungs burning for air. The surface was illuminated flickering orange, smooth except for the punctuation of splashes as debris crashed into the water. She surfaced, gasping and coughing. Smoke filled the air and screaming chaos assaulted her senses.

Jesus Christ, where’s Mulder? She thought, turning frantically to find him.

She felt a brush against her side, and a weak voice saying her name. She looked down to see Mulder clinging to a floating plank of wood. He turned his bloodshot eyes to hers and reached for her hand. She took it, pulling him close, bracing herself against the wood, struggling to swim to shore. The river’s current was weak, and she was a strong swimmer. Soon, her toes snagged on rocks and they stood. They trudged from the river onto the bank. They turned to look at the scene behind them. Dozens of small fires burned on the water, and they floated away weakly along with what was left of the bridge. Rebar hung askew, mangled with pieces of concrete and wire.

“Scully?”

“Mulder, are you OK?” She looked into his face, bent low from leaning on her. His eyes were half-lidded, his skin flushed with a yellow pallor underneath.

He coughed, clearly struggling to breathe. “No. Scully, I’m not going to make it.” He closed his eyes sadly.

She took his face in her hands. “Yes you are, Mulder. I’m going to get you through this. We’re going to get through this.” She implored him with her eyes, trying to connect in that way they had, trying to give him strength.

He buried his face in her hair and clutched her to him. He uttered a strangled sob. “How?” he asked simply.

She was at a loss. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. Images of aliens, ships, and bright lights streamed through her mind. Suddenly, she knew. It was crazy, she thought, but this was her last chance.

“Mulder, I know what to do, but I need you to stay with me. Understand? I can’t do this without you. I can save you, but I need your help.” She pushed him up to look into his eyes.

He struggled to focus. He was starting to fade. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. But she was begging him. Her eyes were sharp blue- a look he’d seen hundreds of times. She was clinging to hope and would not be deterred. He took a deep breath, knowing that he would die anyway, but knowing that he would follow her until the bitter end.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked, steadying himself.

“We need to get to the Pentagon.”

***

They climbed the riverbank as Scully explained her plan. Even in Mulder’s fever-addled haze, he could see the feasibility of it. For the first time in a day, he felt a spark of hope. They came upon a riverfront street. There were no people to be seen, but several vehicles were parked or crashed haphazardly on the sidewalks and in the street. They stumbled to a small Jeep nearby. It had two tires on the curb, but appeared to be otherwise unharmed.

Scully led Mulder to the passenger side, helping him inside. She ran around to the driver’s side.

“Can you hotwire this thing?” she asked.

“Yeah, but hang on.” He leaned forward, digging through the glove compartment. “Ah ha!”

He pulled out a key. “Always good to have a spare.”

She took it from him, smile fading as he coughed, closing his eyes. She started the Jeep, wheeling roughly off the curb. She drove several blocks, horror building as she realized that there were no people here. They had all gone to the hospital or died by now. Not only that, but the power was out. The streets were completely dark. She skidded to a stop at the security checkpoint.

Mulder stirred beside her. “Nobody’s home, Scully.”

The gate was partially open and the guard house was empty. She slowed the Jeep to a crawl and pushed their way in. She turned off the headlights, coasting quietly under the moonlight toward the main parking area. All appeared dark and silent. She pulled next to an entrance.

“Wait here,” she told him.

She pushed the door open. To her right was a security station. The keypad was dark and the door opened easily. On the desk she found what she was looking for- a flashlight and a set of keys. She dashed back outside. She helped Mulder out of the Jeep and led him inside.   


“OK, Mulder. I need you to tell me where to go.” She braced herself to better support him.

“First, Scully,” he started, starting to stumble, “We need to find a wheelchair. I can’t walk much longer.”

She shined the flashlight into his face, his flushed cheeks now faded to a pale yellow. His eyes were swollen and muddy orange, the burst capillaries seeping into the jaundiced whites. Concern knotted her features. His liver was failing.

They stumbled forward, looking for a first aid station. The beam of light flicked over the darkened corridor, sending reflections off room numbers and nameplates. Finally, they saw the red cross. They went through the door, and Scully eased Mulder into a chair. She went behind the desk, rattling the handle of a locked cabinet. She rifled through the keys she’d found, trying a few until she found the correct one. She took a blanket, first aid kit, and a sterile kit of surgical supplies. She found a wheelchair, stowing her supplies in the back pocket. She wheeled the chair to the waiting room and helped Mulder into it. She covered him with the blanket. She leaned down and grasped his face.

“Mulder, stay with me. I need you to help me one more time. Can you do that for me? Just one more time.” Tears brimmed in her eyes.

He nodded weakly and told her what she needed to know.

***

She was running now. Mulder had lost consciousness two corners ago. Her time was almost up, but she knew what she was looking for. She just had to find it. She caught a glimpse of something in her flashlight beam. A sign on an unmarked door.

KNOW YOUR EXITS

That’s it. She opened the door, wedging Mulder’s wheelchair through the opening. Boxes upon boxes, stacked on shelves twenty feet high. Where is it, she thought frantically. She ran down the aisle, box descriptions flying by. One jumped out at her, and she skidded to a stop, nearly tumbling Mulder from the wheelchair.

PURITY CONTROL

She yanked the box from the shelf, holding the flashlight in her mouth while shuffling through the contents. She held up a dusty jar containing an alien fetus suspended in liquid. She stuffed it into the chair’s pocket, both horrified and relieved. This was it. It was too late to make Mulder another vaccine. He was going to be gone in minutes, not hours.

She tossed the box’s contents on the floor. Papers, DNA samples, and vials scattered upon the cold floor. Scully’s eyes caught the reflection of a small metal vial. Please God, she thought. Please let it be in here.

She twisted the cap from the vial. Hands shaking, she shook the vial into her palm. A tiny chip glittered in the light. Scully leapt to her feet, yanking the surgical kit from the wheelchair. Mulder’s head was slumped forward. She pulled his collar down and splashed alcohol on his neck. She sent up a silent prayer, took a scalpel, and sliced a vertical line. She took the chip from her palm and inserted it bluntly inside. She stitched the wound closed, heart pounding.

Job done, she stepped back. No movement. Mulder’s blood stained the back of his shirt. Her hands were covered in it. She looked at Mulder’s motionless body and started to tremble. Tears fell and a sob wrenched through her. She dropped to her knees, suddenly overcome. A penetrating sorrow filled her, and she took a breath to wail.

Mulder’s body shook violently in a double spasm. Scully gasped, scrambling to her feet, dropping the flashlight on the floor.

“Mulder? Mulder!” she cried.

He moaned, then coughed. He lifted his head slowly, his face twisted in terrible pain. He cried out loudly, voice cracking.

The doctor in her took over, feeling his head, his pulse, trying to see him. The light was dim, but she could see his face.

“Mulder, can you hear me? Are you in pain?”

He took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes. His neck seared with pain. His limbs felt cramped. His eyes felt like they would explode. He locked eyes with her, searching for words. The seconds ticked by, and as he opened his mouth to say her name, the pain started to fade. His breath came easier. He felt something inside him snap, and he felt cool. His muscles relaxed.

“Scully…”

“Mulder?”

“You. You saved me.”

He reached for her face, pulling her closer. His eyes were clear again, blood and jaundice gone.

“Was it…” he started to ask.

She nodded, covering his hands on her face with hers.

Tears again fell from her eyes as she looked at him, this man she loved so much, this man who loved her so much. It was written all over his face. He pulled her down to him, kissing her. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, falling onto his lap. She covered his face in kisses, whispering his name over and over. He smiled, kissing her in return. Tears streamed down their faces. They pressed their foreheads together, holding each other quietly.

Mulder opened his eyes. He kissed Scully’s nose. “My neck,” he said, moving his hand gingerly over his stitches, “We both have chips now. What does that mean?”

She stood, gathering herself. “It means that whatever kept me from dying of cancer, whatever kept me alive, is now in you, too. We’re in this together now.”

He stood cautiously. “For better or for worse, Scully.” He took her hand and kissed it, smiling.


	2. A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The agents pick up the fight again.

They explored the medical station they’d found, Mulder searching through cabinets and lockers, Scully digging through drawers. She made a small pile of supplies next to a lantern- matches, nitrile gloves, crackers, Tylenol. She didn’t know what was happening outside the Pentagon, and her mind was on survival. Mulder’s was on survival, too, but in a different way. They were both wearing their clothes from earlier in the day. The wetness from the river had long since dried, but they couldn’t walk around like this. He knew from Scully’s work at the hospital that most doctors kept extra clothes in their lockers. He hoped that any clothes he found would fit them, though he supposed scrubs would work in a pinch, he thought wryly.

“What happened on that bridge, Mulder?” Scully asked, breaking their silence, “Monica told me I was one of the chosen elite. Why would they try to kill me? Or were they trying to kill you?”

He shook his head, rifling through another locker. “No, you were the target. Someone sent an ARV after you after my meeting with the Smoking Man. He offered me a deal. You were the leverage. I didn’t take it, and he intended to punish me.”

“He offered you the vaccine. But the price was your soul.” She stated calmly.

“I thought you were safe, Scully. No matter what happened to me, you would live, and you would be able to undo all of this. I didn’t think he would just kill you instead.” He opened another locker. “Here we go,” he said, pulling out folded jeans, a gray T-shirt, socks, and boxers.

She looked over at him, watching him unfold the clothes, holding them up to gauge their size. She carried the lantern over, setting it on the bench near him.

He read the size tags in the light. “I can make these work,” he said. He immediately started to strip down, pulling his shirt over his head by the collar, avoiding snagging his neck wound.

Scully stood silently, watching him undress. In another life she would turn her back, giving him his privacy. Now she allowed herself to see him. His shoulders were broad, muscular and sculpted. His torso chiseled from running and working outside. She noted his bruises and abrasions from the fight at their house, suddenly wanting to touch them. She looked downward, seeing him fully naked, a heat waking up in her core.

Mulder watched her watching him. It was rare that she would look at him so brazenly. He had always been the more visual partner, she the more auditory one. He smirked as her eyes drew lower. “Hi, Scully,” he said, slightly wiggling his hips.

She blushed, eyes darting to his face. He smiled broadly, and she returned it. “Sorry, Mulder,” she said, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

He pulled on the boxers he’d found. “No, you’re not. But, Scully,” he took her hand, “We need to make up for lost time.” He stroked her ring finger with his thumb.

She nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Did you find anything for me?”

“I thought you could just walk around naked.”

“Ha ha. You’re funny.” She rolled her eyes. She stepped to another locker, opening it. “Eureka.”

She pulled out a V-neck sweater and black slacks, showing them to Mulder.

“Nice,” he said, threading his belt through the loops in his jeans. They were a little loose, but would do for now.

She took off her jacket, folding it primly and placing it on the bench. She glanced quickly at him, noting he was now intently watching her. She unbuttoned her blouse, grateful for the relative darkness. She knew he loved to watch her undress, and no matter how many times she’d done it in front of him over the past twenty years, she always felt a little shy. She folded it and set it atop her jacket. She adjusted herself in her bra, raising one eyebrow in defiance of her shyness.

He was always breathless when he saw her creamy skin. Her abdomen was smooth and flat, her delicate collarbones gently curving to the hollow of her throat. He watched her adjust herself, cupping one breast and then the other, settling them in the satin cups. He felt a stirring in his groin, willing himself to calm down. A bench in the Pentagon wasn’t exactly romantic. She bent to remove her pants, taking her panties with them. He let his breath out all at once.

She looked at him, clearly bashful but also with an air of defiant power. “Hi, Mulder.”

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he said without thinking.

She met his eyes, thanking him silently. She pulled on the slacks, sucking in her breath to button them. She adjusted the waist, looking down at herself. They were tighter than she’d normally wear, hugging her thighs and runner’s calves. Mulder liked them, though, judging from the look on his face, she noted. She pulled on the sweater, relieved at the soft feel.

They stood facing each other for a second, silently appraising. Then he bent to transfer the contents of his pockets, hoping his allegedly water-resistant phone had held up. She did the same, then packed her gear into a small duffel that she slung over her shoulders.

“Mulder, we have to get out of here. We’ve been lucky so far, but we know there have to be survivors in the government. And they’re going to come back here.”

He nodded, biting his lip, thinking. “What are you going to do with that?” He gestured toward the alien fetus. “Didn’t you already develop a vaccine?”

She nodded, putting the jar in her duffel. “Yes, but only Agent Einstein knew what was in it. I’m not sure she’s still alive, and I doubt it’s safe for us to go back to the hospital.”

“We need someone to help us. Someone who is still alive.”

“I know someone. Monica Reyes. She’s alive.”

“But she is with the Smoking Man now. She betrayed us.”

“I don’t see it that way, Mulder. I think now, especially, she can help us. She may want to redeem herself,” she said thoughtfully.

“Then let’s contact her. There are encrypted phones here. We can call her without being traced. Let’s go, Scully,” he said, striding out of the room.

***

The night was mild, a warm breeze blowing in from the ocean. They stood atop a gentle hill in the dark, lost in thought, looking down onto the partially lit city. The only sounds were the wind in the trees and the soft clicking of the Jeep’s engine as it cooled.

“Is this how it ends?” Mulder asked, breaking the silence, “Twenty-three years chasing monsters, and mankind dies from a fucking cold?”

He frowned, pained at the futility of it all. Years fighting against the darkness ending on a dark hill above a dying city.

“No, Mulder. Mankind still has some fight left in it. I believe we’re going to make it through this,” she said.

He looked down at her, eyes shining. “Thank you for saving me,” he said simply, “I was ready to die and you gave me a reason to live.”

The breeze blew her hair softly around her face. “What’s that?” she whispered.

“You. I love you, Scully. You’re my reason to live. To keep fighting. You’re everything to me.” He stepped closer, hugging her waist.

She gazed up at him, palming his cheek, eyes glittering. “My touchstone,” she said, “My Mulder. My life.”

He bent to kiss her. Their lips crashed together desperately. She tasted his bottom lip, twining her fingers in his hair. He opened his mouth to hers, one hand at the back of her neck, the other sliding down her back to cup her ass. He squeezed, making her moan into his mouth. He slid his hand up her side to stroke her face. They pulled apart with slow kisses, passion fading to gentle longing. They still held close, unwilling to let go.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel made them startle. Headlights shone around the bend, illuminating them. They cut out, casting them into quick darkness. The engine turned off, and the door opened.

“Dana! Fox! It’s OK, it’s me,” Monica called out.

“Monica?” Scully stepped forward.

Monica walked to them, holding a small bag. “You said you had something to help?”

Mulder picked up their duffel beside their feet. “The only thing. It’s all we have left to fight this.” He reached inside to give her the alien fetus. “Purity Control.”

She took the jar, brow furrowed, wordlessly studying the dead creature.

“How bad is it, Monica?” Scully asked, “Can they still be saved?”

“The dead number in the thousands, as far as we can tell. Every city is like a ghost town. People are suffering either in the hospitals or in their own homes. We’ve already lost so many… I don’t know if the rest can be saved.”

“You have to get this to the hospital,” Scully frowned, continuing, “I suspect Einstein is dead by now. But there will be more doctors, and I’m sure there are some among your ‘chosen elite.’ The DNA needed for the vaccine is in here. You have to save them, Monica.”

Reyes looked at the both of them, clearly determined and frantic. “I won’t let you down.”

Mulder and Scully looked relieved.

“I brought you some things,” Monica said, handing over her small bag. “Weapons, some cash, burner phones,” She paused, “And something else.”

Mulder held up a small notebook from the bag. “What’s this?”

“Agent Mulder, if this cure works, the world will be a very different place. We don’t know how this will change how the government is run, how society works. But what we do know is that you and Scully are targets. And so is your son.”

They looked at her, speechless.

“Inside that notebook is information you need to find him. Follow the directions. They’ll take you to William.”

She turned, striding quickly back to her car. She sped away.

Mulder turned to face Scully, holding the notebook between them.

She looked at it, then at him. “Mulder…”

His eyes were bright. “Let’s go get our son.”


	3. Flight

Mulder and Scully crouched behind a low stone wall, assessing the movement of military vehicles over the tarmac.

“Strange that the Pentagon was deserted, but this place is up and running,” Mulder said.

“They’re orchestrating it from here, I think. Tad O’Malley claimed that the Spartan Virus was activated through microwaves. What if he was right? That wouldn’t happen at the Pentagon. It very feasibly could happen here,” Scully replied, gesturing toward a large antenna.

The red light on the antenna blinked in time, oddly in sync with the movement of taillights and headlights below. They seemed to be loading items into transport vehicles.

“Scully, these directions send us to that hangar,” he gestured toward it, “but I want to get a closer look at that antenna’s control station. If that’s where this virus is being activated, maybe we can stop it.”

She looked up at him, impatient to get on a helicopter and to William. But if they could stop the transmission, they could stop the spread. And if Reyes was able to get a vaccine from Purity Control, those left could be cured and then immune from another attack like this. Her mind, though torn, was pragmatic. She unholstered her gun.

***

They ran around the back of a warehouse, pressed against it, waiting for headlights to recede. Wordlessly, they crept behind oil drums, barricades, and storage sheds. They ran from shadow to shadow, guns drawn in the dark. Finally, they reached the control station. It was windowless and dark, with an unmarked door facing away from the tarmac.

Mulder tried the handle. Locked. He took his wallet from his pocket, removing the lock pick that he kept inside. While Scully kept watch, he picked the lock in a few seconds. They slipped inside.

They walked through an airlock to a clear glass door. Peering inside, they saw a control panel. Lights of all colors were lit or blinking. They entered, looking around for some clue. A laptop was open in the center. Mulder rolled the mouse, activating the screen. A loading bar was at the center, running a series of programs. They looked down at the screen, deciphering filenames.

“Mulder,” Scully began, heart beginning to pound, “This is it. Look.”

She pointed to a program called “anti-vax.exe.” Their eyes met. She pointed again to another- “endgame.exe” near the bottom.

Mulder thought back to the last time he sat before a screen in a military installation, seeing the end of the world on a screen. His eyes turned steely, a seething silent anger in his expression. He felt around to the back of the laptop. He pulled out the hardwire. He found a flash drive, regarded it for a second, then threw it to the floor. He crushed it under his shoe, picked up the small chip inside, snapped it between his fingers. He took the laptop and bent the screen, snapping it off. He tossed it aside. He took the CPU and smashed it on the control panel. A section of the panel sparked and then went dark. Red with rage, Mulder destroyed the remaining laptop pieces, smashing them into twisted plastic and fiber.

Scully regarded him from a distance, knowing he’d repressed this for a long time. He first learned of this fourteen years before, first learned of the conspiracy 24 years earlier, and this was the end. He couldn’t save his sister, his parents, countless friends and allies along the way, but he could do this. He could make it stop.

She heard the din outside get louder. Angry voices could be heard in front of the station. She ran to Mulder, putting her hand on his back.

“Mulder, stop. We have to go. They know.”

He froze, listening. His expression changed. He took her hand, charging out the door and out of the station.

They burst outside, disoriented. They saw the bounce of flashlights coming around the corner, and fled the other direction. They dove into a hangar, slamming the door behind them. They ducked behind a maintenance bay, panting.

“Give me the notebook,” Mulder said.

She handed it to him. He read the page, looking around.

“This is the hangar. That must be our ride,” he said. A black helicopter sat nearby. “We need a pilot.”

“There’s a phone number here. I’m calling it,” she said, reaching for her sat phone.

The phone rang once. “Yeah,” the voice on the other end said.

Scully’s brow furrowed. Something about that voice was familiar…

“…Agent Doggett?” she asked.

“Scully. You made it,” he said.

“Look, Agent Doggett, we’re at Bolling. We need your help.”

“I know. I’m here. Get in the ‘copter. I’ll be there in five.” He hung up.

Scully stood. “We have a pilot.”

***

They sat inside the helicopter, adjusting and connecting their harnesses.

“This was planned, Scully. Every move,” Mulder said. He grimaced in distaste. “We’re lucky to still have friends out there, but what if I had taken the deal?”

“Apparently it was never a possibility, Mulder,” Scully said, sighing. She looked out the tinted window into the dark hangar. “I just wish we could stop being pawns in someone’s game.”

He reached down to take her hand. “We’re taking control, Scully. We’re going to find our son, and we’re going to save him in the way we know how. We aren’t going to let anyone else dictate it this time.”

She looked into his eyes, glad the darkness mostly hid her stricken expression. She had mourned for many years not only the loss of William, but the helplessness she’d felt at their circumstances. Since he was born, it had seemed that things happened to them, and they’d had to react accordingly, unable to control their circumstances or prevent tragedy. That he was assuring her that they were on their own path now told her that the period of reacting was over. It was time to go forward.

Light cut across the floor as a side door opened. A large figure in fatigues jogged briskly toward them. They tensed as the man drew closer. Mulder clicked the safety off his gun. The man jumped onto the track, opening the door. The overhead light shone on their faces.

“Relax, you two, it’s me,” Doggett said.

Mulder put away his gun. “How in the hell did you get involved in this, Doggett?”

Doggett strapped himself in, turning the auxiliary power on to check the gauges. “I wasn’t. I was almost dead along with the rest of the world.” He sniffed, clearing his throat. “See? I knew just enough to be in here when Monica told me to be. I figured I was going to die next to a barbed-wire fence, but then I started getting better. Did you guys do that?”

They nodded. “Mulder stopped it,” Scully said simply.

“Good. Those fucking bastards,” Doggett replied. “Now. They’re looking for you out there. We’re going to have to make a run for it, and we’re probably going to take some fire. What I want you to do is, once we get rolling, get as low as you can. There’s flak jackets under your seat. Cover up with them. And don’t sit up until I tell you to.”

Doggett put on a headset, flipped a switch to dim the cabin. “Let’s do it.”

He pressed a button, and the door on the hangar started to rise. He flipped on the motor, releasing the brake. The helicopter slowly rolled toward the door, still half-closed. He commanded them to get down. He engaged the blades, deafeningly loud in the hangar. The door opened completely to the sight of men with rifles bearing down on them. Doggett engaged the lift, and the helicopter lurched. It skidded along the ground, half-outside the hangar. They tipped dangerously as he took it at a sharp angle, nearly clipping a Humvee. Bullets fired, clinking off the landing gear and bouncing off the windows. Doggett engaged the throttle at full blast, roaring low along the ground, careening in and out of the line of fire. He got to the edge of the tarmac and lifted, and they were shooting into the air. A stream of anti-aircraft fire barely missed the rotor, causing them to tip sharply before evening out. The base receded behind them.

“OK. We’re clear,” he said.

They sat up, looking cautiously around them. Scully pointed at a crack on the outside of her window. Mulder nodded, sighing in relief.

“Where are we going, Agent Doggett?” Scully asked.

“Wyoming,” he said.

 


	4. Lead the Way

They ducked under the whirring blades of the helicopter, running across the grass a safe distance. Once clear, they turned, each raising a hand to wave as Doggett took to the air, en route to the nearest Bureau office in Rock Springs. They watched until he was out of sight, when the grassy field around them stilled and the air became serene again.

It was the cold stillness of pre-dawn, when the sky is just starting to color, the in-between time between darkness and light. Mulder’s face was lit by the screen in his hand, as he studied the map pointing the way to a small farm outside of Jackson.

Scully was slowly taking in their surroundings, able to barely discern the craggy peaks of mountains in the distance and the tree-topped hills nearer the plain where they stood. She could hear a bubbling stream nearby, and in her mind’s eye, she pictured clear water flowing over rounded stones, a flash of light reflecting off the broadside of a silvery fish escaping a small bear. The air smelled clear- so clear it stung to breathe it. She clasped the flak jacket closer, thankful for its heavy warmth. She became aware of Mulder looking at her expectantly.

“Hmm?” she asked.

“I said, are you ready? We’re only three miles away. We can make it by sunrise.”

“Yes. Let’s go.” She squared her shoulders and followed him.

They walked in silence, each lost in thought.

Mulder knew he had faced more dangerous and delicate situations than this one. But this was different, because it was his son. He hadn’t seen him since he was days old. He still remembered William’s new baby smell, the way he balled his fists when he was hungry, his big blue eyes. He kept a wallet-sized picture of him at home. It was well-worn and frayed at the corners. He looked at that picture almost every day since Maggie had given it to him. He tried to picture what he would look like now. Would he have dark or red hair? Were his eyes still blue? Did he have his father’s height? Dread settled in Mulder’s stomach.

Scully retreated into herself hours before, as she did under emotional stress. The feelings of guilt and fear she’d tried to stifle for 15 years had come back to the surface, and she was overwhelmed and grieving again. She couldn’t help picturing that day when she and Monica had stood over William’s crib, sobbing as she made up her mind to give him up. The harrowing fear for his safety had gutted her. She had felt like a failure as a mother, and was utterly alone. From the day she had released William into the arms of the social worker at Catholic Services, kissed her boy on the forehead, and left him there, she felt that she’d made a mistake- that she should have tried harder to protect him. That she should have been willing to die for him.

And now, she was hiking at dawn through a valley in northwestern Wyoming to find him because she hadn’t died. She was alive, Mulder was alive, and they were going to reclaim their responsibility to him. If he would let them. Despite her mind knowing that this boy was a teenager, her heart insisted that she was searching for a swaddled infant. She hated herself. She hated what she’d done to their miracle family. And she dreaded this moment now that it was here. But she kept going, following Mulder’s lead. She would one day have to atone for her sins, and it felt like today.

***

 

They rounded a bend, passing through a grove of evergreens and stepping onto a gravel road. The rapidly-brightening sky cast a rosy glow on a white farmhouse down the hill. A handful of cows grazed in the distance beyond the barn. Closer to the house, a hen crept out of a coop to pick at fresh insects near a garden. The air was still, as if the land sensed their trepidation.

Their eyes met, his tortured and dark, hers naked with fear. He took her hand, squeezed it. She nodded. They walked down the lane to the Van De Kamp farm.

The windows were shuttered and dark as they approached the house. They climbed the steps to the covered porch. Mulder knocked at the door. Scully stood back and to his side, reverting to her training at Quantico on how to approach residences. Be visible, but non-threatening. Leave both agents an exit. Leave space for the occupant to come out, but not enough to attack.

They heard quiet footsteps, then several seconds of silence.

“Who’s there?” a male voice called out.

Mulder’s eyebrows shot up. That’s him, he thought. That’s him.

Scully’s heart caught. She saw spots. Oh God, she thought. My boy. My son.

Mulder composed himself first. “FBI. Please open the door.”

The door creaked open slightly. The boy peered from behind it, one visible blue eye piercing them through the screen door.

“We’re Agents Mulder and Scully with the FBI. Are your parents home, son?” Mulder asked.

The boy opened the door, regarding them quietly. He was holding a shotgun almost as long and wide as his arm, Scully observed. He was tall and lean. His hair was brown and mussed. It had fallen into his big blue eyes, and he brushed it aside.

“Yes. But they’re dead,” he said simply.

Scully stepped forward. “I’m a doctor, William. Can I come in?”

“Will,” he said, unaffected that she knew his name. He propped the gun by the door and unlatched the screen.

They stepped inside. The home was simple and cozy. The Van De Kamps had been crafty. The father clearly did woodworking crafts. The room was adorned in shelves, furniture, and figurines of buffalo and wolves that were clearly handmade. The mother sewed. The sofas and chairs were covered with handmade quilts, and several embroidered pieces hung on the walls.

“Where are they, Will?” Mulder asked softly.

“Upstairs.”

They ascended the stairs. Will opened a door at the top, gesturing inside. Mulder and Scully entered first. They stopped short, regarding the two bodies in the bed.

Will’s voice spoke quietly from behind them.

“It happened yesterday. Dad was sick already. Some stomach flu. He was getting better. But then…” He swallowed. “Then Mom got sick. It seemed like a cold. She said it was from not sleeping while taking care of Dad. He took a nap and just didn’t wake up. She found him, but by then she was already almost gone. She’d set out meat to thaw for dinner and went to check on him. We didn’t get to eat it.”

Will covered his face with his hands, turning to hide his tears. Mulder and Scully shared a glance. Mulder went to Will, placing his hand on his shoulder, whispering that they should go downstairs. Will nodded, and they left Scully alone.

She stood for a moment, sadly assessing the couple who had raised their son. She went to the father first. Her hands were shaky as she rolled him onto his back, folding his hands over his broad chest.

“Thank you,” she said.

She went to the mother, folding her hands over her chest, straightening the seams on her dress, brushing her curly salt-and-pepper hair aside.

“Thank you,” she said again, tearing up, “Thank you for being his mother when I couldn’t.”

She stood next to the bed and cried, fingering the cross at her neck and sending a silent prayer for the people who had loved her son.

***

Mulder and Will sat at the farmhouse table over glasses of milk.

“I milked the cows already,” Will said absently. “Dad used to say that daylight was our alarm clock- we had no business getting up before the alarm. But I usually wake up early and do it anyway.” He sipped the milk. “Besides, I take care of the chickens. I named them. I know who’s broody and who isn’t, and if one isn’t feeling well. I’d rather get the milking out of the way so I can pay attention to the hens.”

“I saw the coop when we came in,” Mulder said, unable to believe he was having a conversation with his son, “It looks different from ones I’ve seen before. Did I see wheels on it?”

Will looked at him, smiling slightly for the first time. “Yep. I built it. We roll it to different parts of the pasture, then open up the sides. Then they roam around until it’s time to get back in at night. Next day, same thing, different place. It keeps them healthy and keeps the grass healthy. That keeps the cows healthy.”

Mulder was frozen listening to his son speak. He sounded so much like Scully, confident in his knowledge and in his analysis and solution to the problem at hand. He started to reply when he heard her coming down the stairs.

She sat at the table. Mulder and Will watched her. Her face was splotchy from crying, and she looked exhausted.

“I’m sorry about your…” she swallowed, “your parents, Will. I can call our colleagues to take care of the arrangements.”

Will met her eyes, and something passed between them. He nodded slowly.

Mulder took a deep breath. “We came here for a reason,” he started.

Will turned his head to look at him. “You’re my real parents, aren’t you.”

Mulder and Scully looked at each other, eyes wide.

“I knew already,” Will said, “I knew it when I saw you.”

“How?” Scully whispered.

Will shrugged and looked down into his glass. “I know things. I see things.”

“You know why we’re here, then,” Mulder said carefully.

Will nodded. “You’re here to take me. You have to protect me.”

Scully resisted the urge to hold his hand, instead digging her nails into her palm, trying to maintain clarity. “It’s wise that you go with us. We need to keep you with us this time.”

“I’ll go pack,” he said. He rose and went to his room.

Mulder stood, sighing shakily. “I’m going to give Doggett a call.” He walked into the living room.

Scully was alone in the kitchen. She took the milk glasses to the sink, wearily washing them. She dried her hands, folding the towel neatly on the counter. She looked around the neat kitchen, passing another silent prayer for the couple who lay upstairs. Scully then went to Will’s room, tapping politely on the door.

“Almost done,” he said, stuffing some notebooks into a nearly-filled duffel.

She took another bag from his bed and carried it to the living room, where Mulder was still talking to Doggett.

“I didn’t expect them to be 100% cooperative… No, but… Fuck. Look, I have to protect this kid…”

“What is it?” Scully asked.

“Hang on,” he said into the phone. He covered the receiver. “He’s doing all he can down there, but there’s so much going on with people recovering and dealing with the dead that they don’t have the manpower for a safe house or surveillance.”

“We could go to the cabin,” Will said from the doorway, startling them.

He crossed the room. “We have a cabin west of the Tetons. It’s in the middle of nowhere. No power, no water, that kind of thing. We’d go fishing some weekends.”

Mulder nodded an affirmative. Scully and Will took the bags to the Van De Camp truck, then went to the shed for supplies.

“We found something, Agent Doggett,” Mulder said. He listened for a moment. “Call us when you can.”

He went out the front door, closing it firmly behind him. Scully and Will were in the truck, waiting. He got in the driver’s seat. Will handed him the key from the back seat. They looked at Mulder expectantly. He inserted the key and started the engine.

“OK. Lead the way, son.”

 

 


	5. Settling In

They arrived at the cabin under the blazing sun of early afternoon, having stopped in the town of Alta for additional supplies. The three piled out of the truck, pausing to stretch their legs. The day was warm with the kind of heat that creates a kind of shimmering stillness- the noises from birds and the wings of insects seeming lazy and far away, any breeze an afterthought.

“I’m gonna go open the doors and windows. Air it out in there,” Will said, taking his duffel and walking through the tall grass to the cabin.

Mulder went to the back of the truck, unlatching and lowering the tailgate. Scully joined him to help unload their supplies.

“This is surreal, Mulder,” she said. “I never thought we’d be standing here right now. Of all the possibilities, the hopes, that I’d imagined of this moment, this never crossed my mind.”

Mulder squinted in the sunlight, looking toward the cabin. He heard the creaking sounds of windows protesting as Will muscled them open.

“I never imagined it this way, either,” he agreed, “But why do I feel like he knew? There’s something he isn’t telling us, Scully.”

“He hasn’t told us much of anything,” she replied.

They’d driven hours trying to make idle conversation, giving up when they realized they were the only ones talking. Will had lapsed into silence early into the trip, only speaking up to give directions or make affirmative or negative sounds as a response to their questions.

“No. He hasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think he’s intentionally withholding anything. Whatever it is that he needs to tell us, I think it just hasn’t been the right time,” Mulder said.

“He’s been through a lot,” she said.

She opened her mouth to say more, but Will was coming back to help them.

“I think we can get it in one trip,” Mulder said with false optimism as he rejoined them.

***

They were sweating and tired, having stocked their supplies and tidied the cabin’s three rooms. They sat together at a table, sharing a jug of water. Will had opened up while they worked, a natural tendency from years of working on a family farm. He told them about the spring further into the trees where they got their water, the lake where they fished, and showed them the outhouse.

“A bear got into it once. He didn’t fall in, but the inside was trashed. We had to go back out to get T.P.,” he said with a ghost of a smile. “It needs a better door. But who wants to spend time working in an outhouse?”

“I don’t blame you,” Scully said.

“I don’t blame the bear,” said Mulder, “It beats peeing in the woods.”

“Or the lake,” said Will.

They sat in an amicable silence until Scully broke it, trying to stifle a yawn.

“I’m sorry. It’s been awhile since I slept.”

Will caught the yawn and returned it. “Me too.”

Mulder stood. “Maybe we should all get some rest. We don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Will went into one bedroom, Mulder and Scully went into the other. Their room was cozy, with a large bed covered with homemade quilts that they’d unpacked earlier. It had a small dresser topped with a mirror and a washbasin that Scully was sure was an antique. The nightstands had their essentials inside- guns, wallets, phones.

Mulder took off his shirt and went to the window, admiring the view into the trees. The breeze was soothing and he sighed, closing his eyes.

Scully was undressing behind him, rustling in the drawer for a tank top and shorts to sleep in.

“Mulder?” she asked.

He opened his eyes, turning to see she had lay down already. He walked to the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes and pants along the way. He fell into bed next to her on top of the quilt. She rolled to face him. They locked eyes for a moment, the things they needed to say too big for words.

He reached out to push a strand of hair behind her ear, lingering there.

She moved closer and placed a hand on his chest. She closed her eyes, uttered a shuddering sigh as she was suddenly overcome with emotion.

“Come here,” he whispered, and pulled her to him.

She let the wall come down and cried. He whispered soothing sounds, rubbing her back, kissing her hair. He knew how she felt. They’d been under unimaginable strain the last few days, which was enough to deal with on its own. Then all afternoon they’d been guarding their emotions, wanting to parent their son, get to know him, apologize to him, but also not scare him away. He closed his eyes, nestling his face in her hair. A tear tracked down his face as he imagined the emptiness and conflict Scully must feel. He pulled back to look into her eyes, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I know, Scully. I know,” he said softly.

She looked up at him with wet eyes, exhaustion and sadness and hope naked on her face.

“He’s right on the other side of the wall, Mulder. He’s here. With us. And I have no idea what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out. We always do. Get some sleep.” He kissed her cheek.

They settled into the pillows, facing each other, limbs intertwined.

“Thank you,” she said, yawning, already half-asleep.

“For what?” he asked.

“For being here. For going through this with me.”

“I’d go through anything with you,” he said, suddenly serious.

She searched his eyes, then reached up and pulled his face to hers. She pressed her lips to his in a lingering kiss, slipping her tongue through parted lips to meet his. He slid his hand inside her shirt, cupping her breast. She gasped and arched into him. He kissed her jaw, tasting the salt on her skin. He nibbled along her collarbone. She moaned softly. He smiled against her neck. Then yawned.

“Sorry,” he said.

She smiled. “No, it’s OK. Later.”

They settled in. Scully turned to spoon against him, wriggling her hips against him, satisfied at his hardness against her. He wrapped his arm around her, resting it under the shelf of her breasts, sighing. The breeze was turning cool, and soon they were asleep.

***

He awoke in the dark, shivering. He sat up, feeling disoriented. He felt for Scully, but she wasn’t there. He blinked and shook his head, trying to get his bearings. His eyes adjusted, and he saw a sliver of light under the door. The wind rustled in the trees outside, blowing into the room and chilling him. He got up, padded over to the window, and closed it. He felt his way back to the nightstand, reached in, and powered on one of the sat phones. No messages. He turned it off again and dropped it back in the drawer. He got dressed and went into the main room.

Scully and Will sat at the table, talking in low tones. They had lit a fire in the fireplace, and the room was warm. A kettle sat on the hearth from where they’d made tea. They sipped from their mugs, looking up as Mulder entered the room.

“What time is it?” he asked, embarrassed.

Scully looked at her watch. “After eleven,” she said.

“Shit. Sorry.” He sat down with them. “Have you guys eaten?”

“There’s stew heating up,” Will said. He pointed to an iron pot on a grate over the fire.

Mulder’s stomach rumbled. “That sounds good.” He sat down with them.

Will and Scully looked briefly at each other. Will nodded slightly.

Scully set down her mug. “Will and I have been talking,” she began.

Mulder leaned forward, listening intently.

“There is a lot that he doesn’t know. The adoption was meant to keep it that way. In time, now that we’re here, he will come to know the answers to questions he’s had to ask. But there are other questions, ones that he’s known from a young age not to speak of. Things he’s learned to hide.”

Will took up the thread. “I’m different. Not just that I was adopted- I knew that anyway before they told me- but that I’m not like other… I don’t know. Other people, I guess. Sometimes I see things. I know things. I can tell what people are thinking.” He looked at Scully.

“Go on,” she reassured him.

“I can move things with my mind.” He looked ashamed.

“Telekinesis?” Mulder said, rapt.

“I told him about the mobile,” Scully said, “I thought that it had stopped, but we were wrong. The injection Spender gave him to stop it was temporary.”

“When I was little, I’d pick up toys, spoons, things like that. When I was four, I picked up a cat. My mom cried and Dad yelled. I never did it again where anyone could see. When I got older, old enough to use the internet, I started looking things up. I figured I was a science experiment gone bad or an alien or something. So I stopped completely. Something told me it was dangerous.”

“And you stopped completely,” Mulder repeated. Will nodded.

“Do you think… that you could do it now?” Mulder asked timidly.

“Mulder, no,” Scully said firmly, “Will, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I haven’t done it since I was a kid. Uh, maybe.”

He looked around the room and took a deep breath. He placed his hands on the table. Scully’s tea mug vibrated slightly. Will bit his lip and furrowed his brow. The mug slid jerkily to the center of the table, rotated once, and slid jerkily back to Scully, some tea sloshing over the edge when it stopped. Will let out his breath in a whoosh. He rubbed his eyes and pushed his hair back from his forehead.

Mulder was speechless, half ecstatic and half terrified.

Scully whispered, “Jesus,” and brought her hand to her mouth.

“Sorry,” Will said. “I won’t do it again.”

“No, it’s not that,“ Scully started.

“It’s amazing,” Mulder said. For the first time, he smiled broadly at his son. “Will, that was great.”

Will smiled back. “Thanks.”

“If you want to do it again, go for it. I’m serious,” Mulder said.

“Hold on,” Scully said, “Will, I thought it was great, too, but your first instinct was right- this is dangerous. The wrong people see you doing this…”

“But not in front of us, Scully. Look, Will, you were born like this. It is in you to do and see the things you do. You should be yourself. Be careful, but be yourself. I promise that we won’t yell at you. You’re special. You have a gift. Use it, son.”

A heavy clatter made them all jump.

“Oh, dinner,” Scully said. She got up to get the stew off the fire.

Will got bowls from the cabinet and set them next to her. He crouched down to help.

Mulder looked at them working together, and for one moment, saw their profiles against the fire’s light, the same smooth nose and stubborn chin, the same way of tilting their heads while concentrating. He felt a sense of the present doubling with the past, remembering the first time he saw their resemblance, when William was only a few days old and had his mother’s bright blue eyes.

 

 


	6. Late Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. This chapter is explicit.

“Imagine what it must have been like to go through life hiding what you are? I mean, he has powers, Scully! He could have been found at any time, but he wasn’t! He’s proof of everything. Literally everything!”

Mulder paced the floor, chattering happily. Scully couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t have the heart to dampen his excited rambling. They had bid goodnight to Will a few minutes before, having talked until the wee hours. The fire had long since faded to embers, leaving the main room in darkness. Steady conversation turned to lengthening silences until the three decided to get more rest.

She set the lantern on her bedside table. She went to the window, tying up her hair as she walked, and looked outside. The night was pitch black, but the light behind her caught her profile reflecting in the glass, and she stared at herself absently.

She didn’t notice that Mulder had stopped talking until she felt him behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to nuzzle her neck.

“What are you thinking?” he whispered.

She closed her eyes and sighed, sinking into his warmth. Emotions rose within her, memories flashing before her eyes. The fear and the sadness, the confusion and grief, they fell. What remained was a warmth in her heart, the same as when she had held her son in her room, when he was tiny and fragile, and handed him to his father for the first time. Something she couldn’t identify at first, an emotion wholly unfamiliar to her in years, came to her, and she succumbed to it.

“I’m thinking… I’m thinking that I finally feel at peace,” she said.

He nodded against her, lips brushing her ear as he spoke.

“We’re on the right path again, Scully. I feel it.”

“I feel it, too,” she said.

She caressed his forearms absently, leaning against him. He softly kissed her temple. She made a happy “hmm” sound and wriggled against him. He pulled her tighter, kissing down her neck. He lingered near her shoulder, slowly tasting her skin, nipping lightly. He brought one hand up under her shirt, circling and kneading her nipple until it hardened. She gasped and turned her face up to his, catching his lips in a heated kiss. She tangled her fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply, pressing her ass against him again and again. He was hard against her back, involuntarily thrusting when she pressed into him, when she moaned. He plunged a hand down under her waistband, sinking his fingers into her folds. He slid them, wet and slick, into her, then back up to stroke her clit. She moaned his name, shuddering, losing her balance. She caught herself, palms against the cold window. Mulder sucked the back of her neck, trailing his tongue down her spine. He tugged her shirt up, trailing wet kisses down her back. His fingers continued playing in her wetness, and she writhed against his hand. Her palms were wet against the window.

“Mulder… Oh God, Mulder. Now. I need you.”

He pulled her bottoms off roughly, then his own as she kicked hers away.

“Like this?” He asked roughly, hands running heated over her thighs and ass.

“Yes, now. God, please,” she panted. She spread her legs, lowering her hands to the windowsill, bending slightly.

He bent his knees, entering her from behind fast and hard. They moaned, still, breathing heavily. He pulled away, agonizingly slow, then thrust in fast. She hissed, bucking against him. He picked a fast rhythm, holding her hip with one hand, stroking her clit with the other. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure to her core. He plunged into her again and again and she came with a shout, shaking as waves of ecstasy burst through her. He slowed, feeling her quake around him. She was shaking, and it was all it took for him not to come right then. The last shudder rocked through her, and he pulled out, lifting her, turning her around to face him. He kissed her passionately, his hands at her face.

She felt herself trembling, struggling to stand, yet reenergized by his obvious desperate need for her. She pushed his chest until he took a step backward. Then again. The backs of his knees hit the bed, and he toppled onto the mattress, pulling her down on top of him. They laughed, making eye contact in the fading light. She raised up, supporting herself on his chest, and straddled him, taking him into herself slowly, inch by inch. He groaned low in his throat, reaching up to squeeze her breasts. She gave him a sultry smirk and started to rock her hips against him. He slid in and out of her wetness, faster as she sped up. He grasped her hips, guiding her over him. She rocked faster, tension building inside her again. She felt him getting closer, his movements frenzied, his hands grasping. Her hair came free, hanging into her face, sticking to her cheeks. He suddenly reached up, pulling the hair from her face, clenching it in his fingers.

“Look at me, Scully,” he groaned.

She opened her eyes, looking into his. His expression was strained, his lips swollen and parted.

“Come, Scully. Come for me,” he said, and her orgasm hit her like a whip crack.

“Oh God, oh Jesus, oh fuck, oh Mulder,” she moaned, and he came hard, flooding into her.

“Scully, fuck!” He spasmed over and over into her.

She collapsed onto him, spent and breathing hard.

He clutched her close to him, waiting on their heart rates to slow. He raised up slightly to kiss her sweetly. She rolled off of him, reaching up to pull down the quilts and slide underneath. He slid in next to her, pulling her close. He reached over her to turn off the lantern, settling down beside her. She kissed his nose.

He smiled. “I love you,” he blurted.

She smiled back in the dark. “I love you, too.”

He pulled the covers up to her chin and cradled her against him, feeling content and complete. He thought about his life at this moment- his son in his room and his soul mate in his arms, under the same roof, and it was better than anything he’d ever imagined.


	7. Resolve

Scully opened her eyes slowly, reluctant to awaken from a deep sleep. The light streaming through the window was bright and comforting. She sat up, holding the quilt up to cover herself. The cabin was quiet. Mulder and Will must have gone out already.

She rolled to the bedside table, taking the sat phone from the drawer and powering it on briefly. No messages. She padded to the dresser, changing clothes and taking a quick sponge bath from the basin. She put her hair back into a braid. She regarded herself momentarily in the mirror, noting how thin she’d become lately. It was even more evident without makeup. Twenty years ago, she wouldn’t have left the house without foundation and mascara. Now she was more comfortable in her skin, knowing that lines and freckles were simply a part of her. Besides, Mulder didn’t mind, and he’d often told her so.

Scully opened the window to let in a breeze before entering the main room. The men were gone, but they’d left her coffee and a note letting her know that they were going fishing. She poured a cold cup and drank it black. She found a granola bar in the cabinet and ate it on the way out the door. She made a trip to the outhouse (no bears) and set off toward the lake, heart lifting at the thought of seeing Will and Mulder.

***

They sat together on a fallen log next to the water making easy conversation. They’d been there a few hours, having woken up around the same time. Mulder had never been a good sleeper, and Will had inherited that trait. It was late morning by the time they had gotten there, and the good fishing was already past. They still managed to catch a few trout, and considered the day a success.

It had been a little awkward at first. The previous day’s events had been so heavy that just saying, “Good morning,” seemed hollow. But they’d focused on the tasks at hand- catching dinner and getting to know each other. They started off with safe topics- what Will liked to study in school, where Mulder had grown up. They ventured further- “Your first name is seriously ‘Fox’?” and Will’s crooked toe from being stepped on by a horse. Will told Mulder stories about his farm life- helping birth animals, learning about crops, brainstorming ideas to make the tedious work more efficient. Mulder told Will about his career at the FBI, entertaining him with stories of some of the cases.

“Where did I come in in all this?” Will asked.

Mulder looked at him. He knew that Will knew bits and pieces- whether through telepathy or just intuition. He also knew that Will wanted to hear it. He told him about Scully’s abduction, her cancer, Antarctica. He told him about Scully’s miracle pregnancy with him and how he missed it.

“I was dead. I’d been literally buried in the ground. They- well, Scully mostly- brought me back. And I woke up. Then you were born, and we weren’t safe. We were led to believe that they were going to kill us. And I couldn’t do that to her. So I left to try to save us. To save you. Instead, I wasn’t there to protect you when you needed me. She did what she had to do.”

Will looked out over the water. “Would you do it again?”

Mulder sighed heavily. “No. I failed you both. I’m so sorry, Will.”

Will looked into his eyes, searching. A look of sympathy passed over his features before he broke his glance and looked down at his feet. They sat quietly for some minutes, each lost in thought.

Will cleared his throat. “Why do you call her ‘Scully’?”

Mulder smiled crookedly, running his hand through his hair. “I respect her. She was this person who carried herself with her shoulders back and chin out. She came into my office and shook my hand, knowing what her job was, and knowing that I also knew why she was there. She argued with me in the first minute we met. She was fearless. You don’t call someone by their first name when they’re trying to shut you down. And as time went by and everything happened that I told you about, I kept calling her that. It seemed…. appropriate. The people who call her ‘Dana’ are her friends and family. I call her ‘Scully’ because we’re partners. And that means something.”

“Wow. I’d say ‘get a room,’ but….” Will said sarcastically.

They laughed. Will’s bobber went under the surface, and Mulder congratulated him as he reeled in his catch.

***

The three sat at the picnic table, satisfied from a filling dinner and a long day. Mulder was telling alien stories instead of ghost stories, much to the amusement of Scully and Will. They’d settled in quickly together- hard work and routine suiting them all.

Weeks had gone by, and the dog days of August were approaching. Their days were filled with gathering and preparing food, maintaining the property, and each other. The summer had been both long and short- Will’s entire lifetime compressed into stories to tell, and the usual busy existence of the adults slowed to a crawl without contact with the outside world. Almost, anyway. Once in a while, one of them would drive to town for supplies and to charge the phone.

Twice, they had called Doggett. All was quiet, which could mean good or bad things, depending. The vaccine from Purity Control was in heavy circulation. There had been large population losses, which the government was publicly attributing to a terrorist bioweapon. Privately, the men responsible were nowhere to be found. They weren’t expected to be, whether they lived or had died. The unknown was why they remained in hiding, unwilling to lose each other again.

The evening was turning dark, and they would have to turn in soon. Will looked contemplative, swirling his water glass in front of his eyes.

“How long are we going to stay here? Not like it’s not OK here, but really, we can’t do this forever. We can’t even do it for much longer, anyway. We aren’t prepared for winter, which comes early here.”

“We want to make sure you’re safe,” Scully said, “The risk is too great.”

“Is it, though? We haven’t heard anything. It sounds like the rest of the world has gone back to normal, as much as they can be. The people who want to kill me- we don’t know if they’re even alive.”

“We wanted to wait until we did know, Will,” Mulder said quietly.

“I just…” Will looked into the distance, “I can’t stay here forever. I know you want to keep me safe. So keep me safe. But not here. Take me back to Washington with you.”

He looked at them, meeting their eyes in turn, knowing they were wavering. Their guilt had kept them here, but their resolve to keep up the fight made them want to go back.

Mulder put his face in his hands. Scully looked at Will, her brow furrowed.

“I’ll make the call,” she said.

***

The elevator dinged for the 5th floor, and they stepped off- Mulder, Scully, Will, and two FBI escorts. They walked the familiar hall, entering an office on the left without being directed. Skinner waved them in, asking the escorts to wait outside. Everyone sat.

“Well,” Skinner began, “I never thought I’d lay eyes on you- any of you- again. I’ve been briefed by Doggett about the events that transpired. I can’t stress to you enough that as much as I would like to, the FBI can’t guarantee the protection of any of you. As far as the government is concerned, there is no continuing threat.”

Mulder nodded knowingly, expecting nothing. Scully sat, stoic, ready for a fight.

“What we can do, however, is take care of the situation with William,” Skinner nodded toward Will, “Young man, you’ve been through a lot, and I’m sorry for that. I can’t change the past. You have a choice. Go back to Wyoming and let the system take over until you turn 18, or stay here in their custody.”

Will took a deep breath. “There’s nothing for me in Wyoming anymore. I want to stay here.”

Skinner nodded, shuffling his papers. “We’ll get the paperwork pushed through, then. As far as that goes, you won’t have to worry about anything. It’ll be taken care of.”

The agents regarded each other for a moment, then stood.

“Well,” Mulder said.

“Well,” Skinner replied.

Scully stepped forward to shake Skinner’s hand. “Thank you, Sir, for all you’ve done.”

Skinner shook his head. “I haven’t done enough. But I think this time I can give you what you really want.”

“Which is?” Scully asked, raising an eyebrow.

“To be left alone,” Mulder finished.

He and Skinner exchanged a look of respect, then hugged briefly.

“See you around, Skinman.”

“Goodbye, Mulder.”

They left, closing the door behind them. Skinner sat at his desk, staring blankly, replaying the scene in his head. He signed off on a form, put it in an inter-office envelope, and into his outbox. He looked at his phone- one he’d called his agents in the basement from a thousand times- and put it on Do Not Disturb. He reached into his bottom lefthand drawer with a shaky hand, removing a dusty bottle of scotch and a glass. He poured a drink and downed it, closing his eyes to the burn.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two years later.

“Guys! Breakfast!”

She sat plates on the table and heaped scrambled eggs on them. They liked a big breakfast on Sunday mornings. She poured coffee for herself and Mulder, hearing them come bounding downstairs.

“’Morning,” Will said. He sat down, pouring a massive glass of orange juice before piling bacon onto his plate.

“Hi Scully,” Mulder said. He kissed Scully on the cheek and took his coffee mug.

“Will, have you made a decision yet?” Scully asked.

Will chewed his bite and slathered toast in butter.

“Well, I really liked the program at Purdue, but the department chair at Clemson was really enthusiastic. I’m not sure,” he said.

“You didn’t mention Virginia Tech. You’d be closer to home that way,” Scully said, eyeing him over her mug.

Will shrugged.

“You could play basketball for all three,” Mulder said, grinning.

“Geez, I’m not getting a basketball scholarship, Pop,” Will said, rolling his eyes.

“Engineering scholarships are very prestigious,” Scully said.

“You could always redshirt,” Mulder smirked.

“True,” Will and Scully said in unison. They laughed.

“Are we going to work on the back fence today?” Will asked.

Mulder nodded. “Yeah. I wanted to weed-eat around the barn, too, before it rains this afternoon.”

“You guys better get going, then,” Scully said, “I have a few patient files to review before tomorrow, but I’ll be out in a while to help.”

Mulder stood, taking plates and glasses to the sink while Will put his shoes on.

“See you in a bit. Don’t work too hard,” Mulder said. He squeezed Scully’s shoulder and kissed her hair.

He walked to the back door, which slid open in front of him. “Thanks, Will.”

“Yep,” Will said. He stepped out the door.

“Thank your mother for breakfast!” Mulder called from the yard.

Will turned, giving Scully a big hug. “Thanks, Mom. It was good.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling.

Will ran out the door, and it slid shut behind him.

Scully went to the window, watching the men walk across the yard. A few dogs ran alongside them, and chickens scattered. Her heart caught in her throat, seeing them walk happily together side by side. They were the same height now, and had the same confident gait. Never did she think they would get to this point- settled in their home, just being parents to a son who would be in college the next fall.

She thought of all she’d lost, along with all she’d gained. Her mother, her sister, Emily. Mulder’s sister, his parents, his career. But they’d gained each other, and regained their son. Somehow, they had come out the other side. They had scars- they all did. But they were fading.

Tears welled in her eyes, but did not fall. In the distance, Mulder and Will stopped walking. They turned and waved at her. She grinned, waving back, her heart warm. The men rounded the corner and were out of sight. Scully went to the office to review her patient files, content and eager to spend the day with her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all your encouragement, comments, and kudos. It means the world to me. I enjoyed the journey of writing this, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it.


End file.
